


At Your Service

by ninemoons42



Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: M/M, Maids, Mind Meld, Sexual Fantasy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-08
Updated: 2011-06-08
Packaged: 2017-10-20 06:16:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/209648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ninemoons42/pseuds/ninemoons42





	At Your Service

  
title: At Your Service  
author: [](http://ninemoons42.dreamwidth.org/profile)[**ninemoons42**](http://ninemoons42.dreamwidth.org/)  
word count: 1013  
fandom: X-Men: First Class [movieverse]  
pairing: Charles Xavier/Erik Lehnsherr  
rating: R  
notes: Mild spoilers for the movie, though I took care not to spoil the all-important cameo. Inspiration for the maid dress from [](http://www.livejournal.com/users/chn_breathmint/profile)[**chn_breathmint**](http://www.livejournal.com/users/chn_breathmint/).  
Written for [](http://kink-bingo.dreamwidth.org/profile)[**kink_bingo**](http://kink-bingo.dreamwidth.org/). Kink: humiliation [situational]. My card is [here](http://ilovetakahana.livejournal.com/111469.html).

  
They step out of the bar, and Charles growls and flinches at every passing noise.

Erik very carefully keeps his face blank and his mind even blanker, because he knows why Charles is irritated, and he also knows why Charles is very studiously not looking at him.

The rebuke of “Go fuck yourselves” is still ringing in his ears, and on any other day he would actually be laughing about it.

But Charles had been so sure of himself, had been all but proclaiming that that particular mutant would listen to his particular brand of reason, and so it's very oddly satisfying to see him taken down a notch or two.

Especially because that means Erik has finally won his first bet from him.

And for his own sake, Erik glares Charles into the passenger seat of the shitty little rental car, drives them back to the motel in utter silence.

He counts the number of times Charles refills his teacup while he pretends to read a book.

“Oh all right, let's get this over with,” Charles finally exclaims, after he gulps down his seventh cup. “Whatever it is you've been planning all this time, however nefarious it must be, let's have it out and done. I am,” and he chokes, he actually chokes, and Erik bites down on the inside of his cheek, “at your disposal.”

“And if I say this can wait until we get back to your estate?” Erik asks. He is now openly grinning – and then he's dodging the three pillows from Charles's bed because they've all been thrown into his face.

He laughs, and he watches with great interest as the dark blush spreads from Charles's cheeks to his forehead, down his neck.

“Then I'll kill you now,” Charles growls, “and find some way to hide the body. I'm sure I can find some way to explain your sudden absence to the others.”

And that's it, that's what sets him off, and Erik finds himself standing over the other man, his legs bracketing Charles's knees, leaning right into Charles's personal space and grinning for all he's worth.

“Behave, Charles, my forfeit is nothing as vile as that overactive imagination of yours is making it out to be. I am not even asking you to actually do anything. All I ask,” Erik says, and he knows his voice is growing deeper with every word, darker and more interested, “is that you keep an open mind.”

He watches Charles's eyes grow darker, reluctantly falling into the idea, and he lets his smile grow fractionally.

And Erik takes a deep breath, opens his mind and shows Charles exactly what he's thinking about.

 _The curtains are drawn against the snowstorm outside, and Erik wiggles his toes in his slippers, trying to get warm, and he tugs on the bell pull next to his armchair with a little impatience._

 _Soft echo of a RING in the depths of the mansion, and there are footsteps moving flustered-quick towards him, creak of the door into the study opening, and he finishes off his coffee and looks up with an expectant smile._

 _The first impression is of a dark dress, fine white lace around collar and cuffs, a halo of ruffled dark hair and startling flash of blue eyes. Knee-length dress tapering down to the knees, short vents cut into the side seams, and through them a flash of stockings and lacy garters._

“Holy Mary Mother of God,” someone says.

And there is Charles still on the bed, but he's fallen back onto his elbows and he looks absolutely beautiful: shocked and embarrassed and deeply interested, and the blush seems to have spread everywhere now, and his mouth is hanging open.

Erik chuckles and pushes Charles's jaw upward, gently, making him close his mouth. “I'm not done yet; shall I go on?”

He has to wait for the reply, but it's the sweetest thing he's heard, when Charles looks away and grits out: “Yes.”

 _He smiles at the maid and shakes his empty cup. “Would you be so kind as to refill my coffee?”_

 _“Y-yes, sir,” the maid says, and he watches that face, startled and pale, watches the maid mutter and fuss with the sugar tongs. Hands trembling over the coffee._

 _He smiles and waits for the maid to offer him the cup – and he takes the maid's wrist in his hand, guides the cup to his mouth and takes a sip._

 _Wide blue eyes staring at him._

 _“Why, you're not afraid of me, are you?” he drawls._

 _“Sir,” is the maid's startled reply._

 _“Answer the question,” he says, and he starts pulling on the slender wrist._

 _“N-no. Sir.”_

 _“Hmm.”_

And then there's a gasp, and Erik blinks again, and this time he looks down.

Charles's blush has turned nearly luminous, his mouth hanging open once again, and his expression is equal parts turned on and humiliated.

Erik groans, and he drops to his knees and mutters Charles's name, once.

And then there is a sudden flash of imagery in his mind:

 _Charles in the maid uniform, looking absolutely embarrassed and needy. Tears in his eyes, and the shy smile lurking around his mouth. He is speaking: “Please, sir, what do you want of me?”_

Erik stares at Charles for a long moment. “What?”

And then Charles is closing the gap, Charles's hands are coming up to his face and he's being kissed to within an inch of his life and he just has enough presence of mind to send a panicked _Are you sure of this?_

 _Never been more sure of anything in my life._

 _I've just embarrassed you._

Pause, pause, and Erik nearly breaks away from the kiss.

 _I liked it._

And he does break away at that, takes in Charles's persistent blush and shy smile, and he groans, “Oh, what fun we shall have,” and he kisses him again, hears Charles laugh, red-faced and happy, in his mind.  



End file.
